


Friends Across the Water

by ChortlesOfDoom



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Borderline crack, Comedy, Gen, Happy Ending, How Endgame should be done but won't because the Russos are bastards, I have the flu and daydreamed this whole thing last night while dissociating in bed, Implied/Referenced Torture, It's a good fever dream though, It's basically a fever dream, Jeff Goldblum is unironically the Grandmaster, Light Angst, One Shot, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Sign Language, Speculative, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Tony Stark and Loki don't hate each other, Written In One Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 00:31:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18083912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChortlesOfDoom/pseuds/ChortlesOfDoom
Summary: The snap can't be undone; it can only be prevented. Thus, the Avengers travel back in time to acquire the Infinity Stones before Thanos, with Tony Stark in charge of the Space Stone. His interaction with Loki that day has some interesting results.





	Friends Across the Water

**Author's Note:**

> this has been edited absolutely zero (0) times and it probably always will be because I'm lazy lmao so on top of being weird it might get awkward to read 
> 
> that is 100% my fault and I refuse to do anything about it
> 
> anyway, enjoy!

After the snap, no one was really sure what to do. Strange had left them in good faith; whatever he'd seen would come to pass eventually. They knew that much. They didn't know how or when.

The logistics weren't something anyone wanted to think about. So they didn't.

—

They settled on time travel. It was an outrageous proposal, but with Thanos nowhere to be found—and supposedly, there was a large chance the stones had been damaged—it remained the most straightforward solution to what had happened. If Strange was to be trusted at all, they were firmly on the path to success, and thus, outrageous as it was, time travel would work. Hopefully.

The technology was dropped virtually at their doorstep; how or why or by what kind of cosmic luck, they didn't know. Scott Lang taught them about it. Regular laws' irrelevancy in the Quantum Realm meant that they could, theoretically—he wasn't a scientist, he stressed—use it to travel in time.

They didn't have any other options than trusting him. They fit those ways into special suits, and along with the special vehicles Pym or whoever had designed, they headed out.

—

Days turned to weeks. One by one, they gathered the stones.

—

The Space Stone was one of the trickier ones to acquire.

The idea was to go only as far back as necessary. They were upsetting spacetime regardless of what they did, but they hoped to keep their influence minimal. The Space Stone didn't want this. In almost every instance, it was either inaccessible—kept under magical lockdown, in most cases—or too heavily guarded. Trying to take it like that was more risk than they could afford.

The closest window of opportunity, through some universal misfortune or another, was about five years into the past. It was a very brief window; worst-case scenario, there would be less than ten minutes to make a move. Best-case, nearly an hour, depending on how long whoever was sent could hold a distracting conversation—or a persuasive one, ideally. They kept this in mind as they chose a person.

—

It was Tony Stark they decided on. It was somewhat of an uncertain decision by virtue of who was present in that window—his past self, among others. God knew what would happen if—when—they saw each other. The popular prediction was that the very fabric of the universe would instantly unravel, which was less than desirable. Strange would have seen this too, however, and he hadn't mentioned anything about reality collapsing, so they could reasonably believe that nothing would happen. Shock, psychological damage, perhaps, but nothing worse.

They sent him out shortly after.

—

May 4th, 2012.

Tony fell out of the portal less than ten seconds before Thor and Loki would have returned to Asgard. He stood waveringly, dusted off his clothes, and pointed at the Tesseract. “I need that.”

Silence. They stared, startled, then glanced at each other; glanced at the Avengers; glanced at Tony, who was still standing where the door had just been, a dull expectation on his face. Seconds passed like that, trying to think of something to say. There was nothing.

Tony stuck his hand out and repeated, more insistently, “I _need_ that.”

The first person to speak was, funnily enough, the other Tony—the one from 2012. All he said was a flat, “What the fuck?”

Present Tony turned to face him, grinning. “You know, we were all freaking out about how something like this would cause a paradox. Guess we were wrong.” He paused. “Nice hair, by the way.”

Thor frowned. “Why do you need the Tesseract?”

“Well, not the Tesseract,” Tony explained, facing him again. “I need what's inside it.”

“'What's inside it?'”

“Yeah, the uh—the Space Stone. It's a long story. We need the Infinity Stones to stop someone in the future—five years or so. The plan is to get them before he can.”

Something flickered in Loki's eyes. Recognition, realization. It wasn't clear. He looked up at Thor and slowly began to sign a phrase. The chains around his wrists clattered with each word.

“Did he do it?” Thor tentatively said; Loki nodded.

Tony's brows scrunched. “'He?'”

Loki signed again. Letters, this time.

“T,” Thor said. “H?”

“Thanos?” Tony blurted.

Loki nodded again.

“Yeah. Yeah, he—” The words broke off. Tony took a deep breath. He tried not to think about Peter. “Half the universe. Did you know about that?”

Loki shook his head and signed a very long phrase. Thor stared blankly at him, struggling to understand the movements. Signs were never his strong suit.

“He heard some,” Thor tested after a moment. “Not... I don't know that word.”

Loki glared and spelled it out.

“E—N—O—U—enough?”

He nodded, then continued with his sentence.

“Overheard,” Thor said. The translation was sparse, but it got the message across. “Locked up.”

“Locked up?” Tony repeated, squinting.

“By... what?”

Loki glared again. He signed something else entirely now, moving his hands so quickly the words were nearly indecipherable—if he could speak, he would have been screaming. He finished the sentence with heavy pauses, making absolutely sure Thor knew what he was saying. Signed it again for good measure. Then, he pointed at the muzzle.

Thor's eyes widened.

“What'd he say?” Tony asked.

“Nothing,” Thor answered, shaking his head. Loki kicked him in the back of the leg and he promptly corrected, wincing, “He can't get the point across like this. Needs it off.”

The Avengers heard this. Except for old Tony, who was still trying to figure out how he'd gotten so many greys in just five years, they all made their disapproval very explicit. Loki was anything but surprised. He signed again, slowly and deliberately, then clasped his hands in front of him.

“You wouldn't,” Thor said in disbelief.

Loki didn't respond. He lowered his gaze and waited.

“He won't attack,” Thor explained, facing the Avengers. “And he won't lie. He swears it on—” He broke off and glanced at Loki. “ _Our_ mother,” he hesitantly finished.

“So?” Steve said.

“He _won't._ He wouldn't risk it.”

Thor was right—he wouldn't. There was no magic involved, so if Loki went against his word, most likely nothing would happen, but it wasn't a chance he would take. He looked up at Thor.

Seconds passed. Slowly, Thor reached over and removed the muzzle.

“I won't be long,” Loki softly said, rubbing a cheek; the fit on these things was always so tight. He faced Tony. “It was one of his minions. They forced me onto his side. They kept me locked up until it worked.”

“You're saying this wasn't your fault.”

“No.” Loki shook his head. “I just wanted everyone to be clear. I would never have admitted that, actually—but you know who Thanos is, and I'm probably the reason you're here. I might as well.” He paused, fiddling with his hands, then asked, “What happens to me?”

Tony breathed in and said, “I'm a little foggy on the details. According to Thor—future Thor—you were killed by Thanos.”

Loki reeled slightly and looked at Thor. “He doesn't...?”

“Father? I suppose not.”

Tony sighed. “Okay, anyway—I really need that.” He motioned to the Tesseract. “Come on.”

Another several seconds went by in choked silence. Thor looked at the crowd, at Loki, and then back at Tony. He didn't move.

“If he's telling the truth about Thanos,” Loki said to him, “then I suggest you cooperate. Unless you _want_ —what was it, half the universe?—to perish. Don't tell me you do.”

Thor shook his head. He looked at the Tesseract, hesitated briefly, and then handed it to Tony.

“Wait,” Loki said. “If he doesn't—I'm not _executed,_ then what—”

“I don't know,” Tony answered. “Not my place. Whatever it is, you make it out. And Thanos won't be around,” he added with a shrug.

“Don't leave me here,” Loki suddenly hissed.

“I'm already fucking up the timeline by taking this,” Tony shot. “I'm changing loads just by being here. There's no telling how different things will be—you want to risk more? Could be good things, yeah, but—shit, it's way too risky. Butterfly effect; ever heard of it?”

Loki stared, then sighed and gave a wry smile. “You haven't changed one bit.”

“Yeah, I get that. Feel free to kill me in five years.”

With that, Tony turned and reformed the door. He spared a last look at Loki, made sure the Tesseract—the Space Stone—was safe, and left.

—

Little changed in Loki's life.

He was still imprisoned for a year; he'd hoped New York's confession would be reason enough to exonerate him, but it was brushed off at first mention and never brought up again. Frigga still died (and he still missed her funeral). He still disguised himself as Odin for two years. He still spent time on Sakaar. Asgard still perished.

The fork didn't come until five years later, when the Statesman would have been attacked. This time, they made it out.

It never occurred to Thor that anything had changed. He wasn't there to see the alternative. Neither was Loki—but Loki, unlike Thor, had a much keener memory. Loki recognized that it had been five years since the incident in New York; five years in the future, Tony had said, he'd been killed by Thanos.

The Tesseract was never returned. If it were, Loki supposed he would have taken it when Asgard fell. It would have been right there in the vault with the crown. And if he took it, he supposed, Thanos would have looked for it. He would have found it. Loki would have fought, and if Tony's words were to be trusted at all, he would have lost; he would have died.

For a single, short moment, Loki felt an odd gratitude. Then the feeling faded, and he returned to his task as if nothing had ever happened.

—

 

They didn't kill Thanos immediately. Even after everything they'd done, they still worried about disrupting the flow of the universe, so they waited until the latest possible window, which was right when he would have attacked the Statesman. He came for them on Earth. They were ready.

The fight was brief.

Tony got the last blow; “This is for Peter,” he said, and then blew his skull apart.

Peter was alive. Peter never died in this timeline—and Thanos didn't even know who he was. Not yet, never would. But Tony remembered.

There was no satisfaction as Thanos bled out on the ground; only bitter relief.

—

Tony retired the next day. He destroyed the suits, bought a house on a hill, and permanently moved in with Pepper. They still looked after the company—that was a given—but the superhero days were over. Even Pepper, who had enjoyed a brief stint as Rescue, agreed that it was for the best. They deserved it.

—

The Statesman arrived on Earth a few weeks later.

Thor and most of the rest of Asgard went off to explore the cities, as travellers typically did. Bruce returned to the Avengers base and vowed never to leave the planet ever again.

Loki had Heimdall locate Tony Stark for him.

—

The doorbell rang.

Tony was making breakfast, or trying to, anyway. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sound. A few seconds passed before he turned the stovetop off, rubbed the grease off his hands, and went to open the door.

He was punched so hard he fell backwards.

“It's been a while,” came a familiar voice—Loki. “How are you, Stark?”

Tony stared up at him from the floor, clutching his nose. When he drew his hand back, there was blood. “All things considered,” he said with a crooked smile, “I'm doing pretty good.”

“I'm glad to hear.” Loki returned the smile. “You know, I always thought I _would_ kill you, but I think this will suffice. Consider this your reward for stopping him.”

“As opposed to what?” Tony asked, staggering to his feet. “The universe getting away scot-free wasn't enough?”

Loki chuckled. “Of course it is. I'm just glad I... well, you killed him before he could kill me. I appreciate that.”

“So we're even?”

“Oh, goodness no. When you left me back there, I was taken back to Asgard—imprisoned, as expected. And while I was imprisoned”—his expression darkened—“my mother was killed. I was neither able to stop it nor attend her funeral.”

Tony stared, eyes widening slightly. “I'm sorry. I couldn't—”

“Couldn't do anything else. I know. The universe is such a delicate entity, isn't it?” Loki sighed and smiled again. “Anyway, it wasn't all bad. I ruled Asgard for a while, did you know?”

“Um, no.”

“Well, I was disguised as my father, so I'm not entirely sure whether or not it counted, but I did good things back there. Fixed the infrastructure, for example. Didn't enforce the death penalty every other day. Oh, I did theatre too.” His smile widened. “Asgard loved it.”

“Why are you here?”

“We all live on a ship now, and Earth—”

“No, I know that part.” Tony shook his head. “I mean why are _you_ here?”

“I'm just tying up loose ends,” Loki said, shrugging. “And I was going to ask about that drink.”

“What?”

“Five years ago, you offered me a drink, and I declined. I asked later if I could have it now, and you know what? You never got back to me on that.”

“How the hell do you remember that?'

“I don't forget.”

Tony went silent. His nose was still bleeding; he used the collar of his tee to soak it up. He let the shirt drop, then gave an honest shrug and said, “I hate to break it to you, but I quit alcohol years ago.”

“You quit?” Loki furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“Well, it was fucking up my liver, for one.” Tony rolled his eyes. “My social life, too. I did a lot of dumb things while drunk.”

Loki took a moment to process this, then nodded and said, “Fair enough.” He paused. “I have another question.”

“Shoot.”

“You know Jeff Goldblum?”

“The actor?”

“ _Yes,_ the actor. So listen: several months ago, I was on this planet—Sakaar, not relevant—and I met this man. Bruce met him too, and he's been swearing up and down ever since that they're the same person. I wanted to get your opinion.”

Tony opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He shook his head, squinted, and said, “That's ridiculous. Dude's human, born and raised here. Why would he be on another planet?”

“Well, see, that's the thing. If Bruce is right, then he's _not_ human. I'm not sure what he is, actually, but I do know he's millions of years old, immortal, and probably capable of destroying the universe if he wanted to. Fortunately for us”—Loki grinned—“he's too busy with orgies and improvised dogfights.”

“What the fuck?” Tony whispered.

“I have photos.”

“Of the orgies?”

“What? No. I mean, yes, but no. Photos of him. His face, anyway.”

Tony watched him pull out a phone—where someone like Loki had acquired a phone, he didn't know. Didn't matter. Loki spent a minute scrolling through the pictures, glancing up occasionally to make sure he wasn't peeking, and then turned the phone around. There was the Grandmaster, smiling cheekily. The picture was from the waist up and showed part of one of his robes, as well as his sceptre behind him.

Tony stared. “What the _fuck?_ ”

“That's him, right?”

“Yeah, that's him. What the actual goddamn fuck—you're telling me Jeff Goldblum, dude who played in a bunch of movies about fricking dinosaurs, is an alien?”

“That's correct. And very good in bed, too,” Loki added with a wink.

“Please stop bringing that up. I don't want to know about his space orgies.”

“Alright.” He chuckled. “Anyway, I'll leave. I'll get someone else for that drink.”

“Good luck.”

Loki tucked the phone into his pocket. “It's probably for the best that we never see each other again.”

“Never?”

“Maybe once.” He smiled and added, “I can't plan that far into the future.”

Tony snorted. “Yeah, you're probably right. I'll miss you, though. Call me the next time you feel like taking over the world.”

“I'll try.”

Tony watched him step out of the doorway. Loki's hand was on the door when he suddenly said, “Wait. Why did you tell me this?”

“About Jeff?”

“Yeah.”

Loki smiled at him again, wide and warm and drawn-out. “Because no one will believe you.”

Then he turned and left.

Tony stared at the closed door, silent.

 


End file.
